


A Roll In The Hay

by TourmalineQueen



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: F/M, Het, assassin's creed kinkmeme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 13:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1390273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineQueen/pseuds/TourmalineQueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are many haycarts in the Kingdom, and sometimes there is a horse standing idle beside them... This is what might happen in one of those carts ;-)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Roll In The Hay

*-*-*  
  
"Catch the Assassin!"

The shout was muffled in Maria's haycart. She smiled smugly, and wondered how long it would be before her Altaïr found her. The answer was rather quicker than anticipated, as her Assassin lover jumped in on top of her, crushing her to him in a fierce, silent kiss.

They broke apart when the need for air became more pressing than the need for one another, and the lay on the soft hay, hidden from the world, breathing each other's air.

"How did you find me so soon?" Maria asked softly.

"There was a horse with sweaty withers nearby. I assumed either a Templar was hidden nearby or you were hiding," Altaïr replied smirking slightly.

Maria kissed his scarred lips, and slid her hands under his hood to run her fingers through his close-cropped hair. Altaïr's hands parted her gambesson and worked their way underneath her chainmail and surcoat to find the delicate skin of her belly. She shivered at his intimate touch, and fingertips became palms, one stroking gently the underside of her breast, the other palming her sensitive tummy.

She was breathing heavily, and the ache between her legs was almost too much to bear. She hitched a knee up over his thigh, folding it awkwardly against the side of the cart. She could feel the proof of his desire pressing against her sex.

Altaïr pressed kisses along the left side of her neck, pausing to give special attention to just behind her ear. His hips were moving minutely against hers, and she slid a hand down his back to his buttocks, to press him closer to where she wanted him to be.

"I need you inside me," she whispered into his ear.

She couldn't see him but she knew that the smirk was gone from his face. She and he reached for his erection in the same moment. She slapped his hand away and grasped his shaft, and he slid his warm palms under her surcoat once more, seeming to savour the intimacy of skin-to-skin contact. She wriggled in a vain attempt to get her breeches down without removing anything else, or using her hands.

Altaïr chuckled against her neck when he realised why she was creating such delicious friction against him. His thumb found her nipple and stroked it repeatedly, making it pucker and tighten, and making her shiver deiciously. Again their mouths met, passionate and fierce, warriors both. Finally Maria could take no more and shoved the linen breeches awkwardly down her legs, just far enough to expose herself to the throbbing hot hard manhood she _needed_.

Altaïr made a satisfied growl in the back of his throat, and the hand that had been stroking her belly slid lower, to feel its way into the folds of her sex. He found her wet, warm and welcoming of his touch. He had to silence her moan with his mouth when he stroked the secret mound of sensation by her sex that made her wetter, and want more, more, now, now _now_.

They had little room to manoeuvre in the cart, but their bedding was soft and sweet-smelling (although Altaïr personally preferred the scent of his Maria wet with needing him in her) and Maria turned slightly so that Altaïr's weight was cradled between her legs.

Her knees were benesth her armpits, and his were raised up to give the best angle for thrusting into her, and suddenly she felt the hot, blunt head of him at her entrance, and then she was stretched, and she gasped at the unaccustomed filling, and then he was hilt-deep in her, and she was _full_ of him. His beautiful amber eyes were closed, but she touched his brow gently to encourage him. He opened his eyes as he drew out from her, leaving only the tip of his hardness inside her, then he touched a finger to her lips to silence her, and in he thrust, seating himself fully once more.

They continued this slow, deep, intimate fucking for God knew how long. It might have been minutes or days; all Maria knew was fullness, friction, the slide and glide of Altaïr within her, and how damn good it felt. Finally, Altaïr's eyes took on a frantic cast, and his thrusts sped up, increasing inurgency and strength. Maria's hips lifted of their own accord to meet him, again, again, thrice and again, and then she felt it: the tautness inside her belly, the wetness inside, the pain that was pleasure and the pleasure that was pain and too much tension, so much that she felt she might shatter from it...

Toes curling, she convulsed, pulsing around him, squeezing and clenching his erection, and whimpering softly into the crook of his neck, and drawing Altaïr helplessly into a shuddering climax, spilling his hot seed deep inside her. He released all his breath in a single, low groan, fervently hoping nobody was observing the cart rock and shake with their intimacies.

Maria breathed in the scent of Altaïr as he relaxed against her, and even slept for a brief moment, cock inside her still.

Eventually he stirreed enough to slide to her side and drew her against him.

"Next time," he warned sleepily, yawning again and again, "we travel together."

"I missed you, too, Altaïr."  
  
*-*-*


End file.
